


Anything for You

by darlingdisastrous



Series: Me and My Husband - Anthology [7]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Age Difference, Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, Broken Bones, Corps de Ballet - Freeform, Dating, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dehumanization, Dehydration, Domestic Violence, Drama & Romance, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Killing, Manipulation, Mind Break, Mind Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Murder, Non-Explicit Sex, Obsession, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Alternating, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Psychological Torture, Reader-Insert, Revenge, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Sensory Deprivation, Starvation, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Violence, Yandere, Yandere Illumi Zoldyck, York New City Ballet, Yorkshin City | Yorknew City (Hunter X Hunter), age gap, murder for love, no y/n
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27165698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingdisastrous/pseuds/darlingdisastrous
Summary: Illumi doesn't like to see his love upset, especially when another person causes it.
Relationships: Illumi Zoldyck/Reader
Series: Me and My Husband - Anthology [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1940818
Comments: 51
Kudos: 183





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ya girl has been recovering from getting her wisdom teeth pulled. I haven't been doing much of anything lately. Sorry for any mistakes or if it seemed rushed. I'll probably come back and edit this at a later date to make it better.
> 
> This installment is going to be delving into the darker aspects of illumi and the reader's relationship. Please be prepared.

Illumi loves her.

At least, he thinks he does.

That's what she likes to call this feeling—love. It's not like he doesn't know what it is, but in all the years of his life, Illumi has had little experience with the emotion. He loves his family, he loves Killua, but that sort of love felt different than what he felt for her.

This type of love was raw and all-consuming. He couldn’t stop thinking about her—about her scent, about her smile, about her body. It was physically impossible. It was _dangerous_. Illumi was constantly putting himself in life-or-death situations. He'd trained since he could hold his head upright to be the perfect killing machine. Distractions equaled death, and dear god was his love the biggest distraction of them all. 

Illumi understood that she was a capable woman, he knew she could take care of herself. But for some reason, that didn’t make him feel any better. Being a part from her made him feel physically sick. He didn't like to think about what _could_ happen when he was away. He didn't like to think about the everyday dangers she was exposed to.

Illumi would do anything for her.

Anything.

ღ

It had been nearly three weeks since he was last in York New. Three _torturous_ weeks away from her.

Illumi never considered himself a particularly possessive man. Before now, he'd never really had something to call his own. But, as the days drug on, he felt himself getting antsy just to be near his love again.

The sun had gone down hours ago, plunging the street in darkness. Vagrants and ne'er-do-wells hung about at this time of night. A small seed of worry took root in Illumi's chest. Rationally, he knew his love would be at home now if she adhered to her schedule. He _knew_ , but nothing would quell his worry until he saw her for himself.

Illumi knew these streets well. His body moved on autopilot, not really looking where he was going, but allowing repetition to lead him up to her apartment building. All the buildings looked similar in this part of town. There was constant motion on the streets, dingy lights flickering on and off. It was the perfect sort of area for an ambush.

Once they were married, Illumi would take his love away from these dangerous streets and back home where he knew he could protect her from all the evils of the world. That gave him some comfort.

Illumi reached into his pocket and fished out a tiny metal key. She'd gifted him that a few months back so he could get through the front door and not break in through the window, like he had several times before.

He trudged the narrow stairs, shouldering past a few of the residents but not paying them any mind. The closer he got, the more he yearned for her. He hoped that she would rush him when she heard the key in the door. He wanted to feel her arms around him. He wanted to know she missed him just as much as he missed her. Maybe, he'd even let her kiss him.

He was outside of her door when he heard it. Illumi stiffened. He cocked his head, his hand hovering above the door knob. The sound persisted.

He narrowed his eyes and opened the door. Much to his surprise, it was already open. (How stupid could she be, not locking her door in _this_ neighborhood?)

The living room was brightly lit. (Illumi had learned a while ago that she left the overhead lights on when he was away to make her feel safe.) Her dance bag had been flung off to the side, not placed on its proper hook. Her keys were not in the dish by the door either. This did not help the uneasy feeling inside of him.

And there she was. His love, his future wife, curled up on the couch crying. She must have come inside in a hurry. She hadn’t undressed from her practice clothes, still wearing her black leotard and flesh-tone tights. She also still wore her coat, which was damp from the rain. Her arms were wrapped around a pillow and she clutched her keys in one fist.

As soon as the door shut, she jumped. She quickly wiped her face in a vain attempt to hide her tears from him. Her eyes were all red and splotchy, her mascara running down her cheeks.

“Y-You’re back.” She sniffed, giving him a watery smile. “Do you want something to eat?”

It irked him enough that her first reaction wasn't instantly running into his arms, but coming home to see her crying made him frown outwardly.

“Why are you crying?”

“Oh ... it’s nothing ... it’s stupid.” Again, she wipes her eyes. “I’ll clean up and we can have some dinner—”

Illumi interrupts her with her name, his tone stern. “Tell me why you’re crying.”

She pauses. Even from where Illumi stands, he can see fresh tears welling up in his eyes. She bites her lip but a pathetic whimper escapes her. She seems so small. So fragile.

“Illumi...”

In an instant, he’s by her side. He grabs hold of her left hand, his thumb smoothing over the sizable engagement ring that rested there. The simple action made her crumble. Her tears flowed freely and she collapsed against him, entrapping him within her arms. Her embrace does nothing to quell the anger inside of him.

“It’s ... God, it’s stupid. It’s so _stupid_ now that I think about it. B-but, I try _so hard_. .... So hard. ... And yet, no matter what I do it’s not good enough. I take extra classes, I practice on weekends, I—I do _everything_ possible to improve myself, and for what? They always pick her. It’ll always be _her_.”

Illumi's frown deepens. "Who?”

“Yui,” she says, and she laughs bitterly. “Yui—the _great prima ballerina_ , York New’s favorite dancer! The show can't be _anything_ without her!” Her laugh devolved into a hicuping sob and she buries her face deeper within his chest. “I don’t know why I try so hard anymore. It doesn’t matter—not to the instructors, not to the director—! I’ll always be second best.”

Illumi pulls back, coaxing her to look up at him. “What did she do?”

She gently pries herself out of Illumi’s hold and dries her eyes. With a pitiful shrug, she says, “She exists.”

Illumi feels his carefully constructed mask begin to crack. His eye twitches, though he says nothing. He waits patiently for his love to pull herself back together so she can tell him everything. Eventually, she does.

“We had the auditions last week—I told you about that, right? For _Giselle_. You’ve been busy, I don’t blame you if you’d forgot.”

Illumi hadn't forgot. He knew she was nervous about it even if he didn't completely understand.

She walks back towards the couch, fishing errant bobby-pins out of her hair and undoing her mess of a bun. “Well, we got the cast list back today. “The cast list was announced today, and—big surprise—Yui’s _Giselle_. Really ... I expected this. I don’t understand _why_ I’m so upset about it—I knew from day one she’d get the part ... but ... I really wanted it, this time. And the instructors looked so pleased after my audition—Madame actually came up to me afterwards and complemented me, can you believe that?!”

Illumi nodded. He knew very little of her ballet world but he knew this Madame woman was important.

“I dunno. I guess ... I guess a small part of me thought I actually did it this time. I felt so confident. I walked out of there giving the best performance of my life. Jokes on me, right? Sometimes ... God ... sometimes I wonder why I do this anymore. I don't know if it's fun anymore. I'm stuck. Always the understudy, never the star."

She plays with one of her bobby-pins, a far off look filling her eyes. A singular, fat tear rolls down her cheek. She snaps back to reality and wipes it away and gives Illumi a sheepish smile.

“Like I said, it’s stupid.”

Illumi shakes his head. “If it hurts you, it’s not stupid.”

Her eyes soften, and then she looks at him as if seeing him for the first time that evening. Nearly all traces of sadness have disappeared and are replaced with worry.

"Illumi, you're soaked!"

Confusion washes over him. It seemed preposterous that she should be worrying about him over something as silly as _wet clothes_ when she'd been so depressed moments ago. Illumi might've found it endearing if it wasn't for the boiling rage within him.

"It's raining outside."

"You should've stopped me from rambling—go get changed into some warmer clothes."

Illumi didn't move from his spot. "I'm fine."

"You're gonna catch a cold if you stay in those."

"That is a medical misnomer," says he. "People don't get sick from being wet, they get sick from germs."

Annoyance flashes across her face. For a moment, he thinks she's going to come up with some bratty retort. (He almost wished she would. Ever since he came home, seeing her all broken and tearful awoke a heat in his belly.)

Instead, she crossed her arms. "Whatever."

"I only wanted to inform you so you wouldn't go around saying ignorant things."

"Will you just go get changed!" She springs up from the couch and shoves him towards the bedroom. Illumi could've easily stood his ground, but he gave into her wishes. He'd have his time to get back at her later.

Much to his chagrin, she doesn't join him in the bedroom to change herself. Rather, she leaves him alone in the room and motions to the drawer that he's claimed for himself, before heading back to the kitchen. The sounds of pots and pans clanging together eases some of the tension, but he can't shake the feeling of anger within him. It's not directed towards her—never her—but at the one who made her cry.

This was not the first time he'd heard of Yui. She was a name that flitted in and out of conversations occasionally, her name synonymous with stifled anger or sadness. Illumi was aware that she was a sore subject and didn't press it too often, but to his knowledge she'd never made his love _cry_ before. Up until this moment, _Yui_ was merely an annoyance.

Now....

Well, now she'd crossed the line.

ღ

His love curled up under his arm. Some movie played on the television but Illumi hadn't payed it much mind. Illumi was more concerned with the woman beside him. His fingers toyed with the roots of her hair, scraping lightly along her scalp. She liked it when he did this, which seemed strange to Illumi, but he wouldn't deny her something which required so little effort.

But, at the same time ...

Illumi's grip tightened just enough in her hair, pulling her head back. The column of her neck sat exposed to him, the cords flexing as she swallowed hard.

"Aren't you ... ah ... tired?" she asked, her voice somewhere between hopeful and cautious. "From your trip?"

"I possess great stamina." Illumi tugged her head back a little more and she moaned. "I thought you understood that by now?"

"I didn't want to assume..."

The corners of his lips twitched upwards. _Adorable_. 

Illumi unwound his hand and gave her shoulders a light push, pinning her against the couch. He loomed above her, eyes hungrily taking in her appearance. She still hadn't taken off those practice clothes, which did nothing to hide the curve of her body. His fingers ghosted over her body, her heat seeping through the fabric. 

"I'm not sure how I feel about you wearing this." Illumi slipped his fingers underneath the elastic spaghetti strap of her leotard and released it with a _snap_. "It just occurred to me how exposed you are on a day-to-day basis. How all those people ... get to see you like this..."

She shivers, goosebumps erupting along her flesh. He pulls the little strap over her shoulder, not all the way, but enough.

"It's mandatory," she whispers. "We dress like this so that we can see our bodies better. That way, we can correct mistakes. We can correct—" she inhales sharply when he presses his crotch against her thigh. "b-body placement."

Illumi hums. He slides the other strap down her arms, the swell of her breasts more prominent now. He rolls the fabric down her body, revealing her strapless bra and stomach. It takes a mere flick of his wrist to tear the bra from her. Her skin is littered with red intentions of where the leotard had been pressed into her flesh for so long. She shakes her hips, shimmying out of the fabric and leaving her all-but bare before him.

Illumi's hand now rests just above the elastic of her tights. They might as well be sheer because he can clearly see the outline of her cunt. She's panty-less. The heat inside of him flares. 

"It doesn't take much for these to come apart, does it?"

She nods, "They rip really easily. I'm constantly having to replace them."

Illumi gives her no further warning before taking the thin fabric between his fingers and tearing it open enough to reveal her glistening core. She gasps, her hand wrapping around his wrist as if to stop him, but the deed is done. Her chest is moving in deep, shaking breaths. Her arousal is painted plainly in her eyes. All of the heartache from before seems to have melted completely from her eyes.

His thumbs push her labia apart. Her heated flesh twitches.

"Such flimsy clothing..." He tuts, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. "It's a wonder no one has taken advantage of you before now."

"Is that what you're doing?" Her pupils are blown wide. She unconsciously begins gyrating her hips against his hand. "Taking advantage?"

Her taunt is met with Illumi's breath ghosting over her cunt. He allows himself a small smile. "It's impossible for me not to, my love."

ღ

Illumi draws himself off of the bed once he's sure she's asleep. She lays there, legs twisted in the sheets and bare as can be. A thin sheen of sweat covers her skin. She fell asleep satiated and content if the dumb smile on her face says anything.

He lingers above her for a moment, compelled to brush some of her hair away from her face. Then, he turns away and seeks out his clothes. They're scattered all about the room rather carelessly. Usually, he's better about keeping them together, but he couldn't help it when he'd been away from her for so long.

Once he's comfortably clothed, he snatches up his phone and types in a name. It takes a moment before the information comes up. _Yui Ito_. Her apartment is closer than Illumi anticipated, not five blocks away. He pockets the phone, fingers brushing momentarily over the needles he has stored in there, then his key. He creeps from the room and fights the urge to look back again before he heads out.

This shouldn't take long. There's no chance she'll wake up before he gets back.

Despite himself, Illumi glances over his shoulder as he leaves the room. She's deeply asleep. This warms him. Yes, he'll be back soon. Maybe in time to actually sleep next to her. He thinks he's earned it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: things get pretty dark, but won't be as bad as the next chapter. this is your **warning**. read the tags. if they make you uncomfortable or might be potentially triggering, you probably shouldn't read it.

The morning was quiet, and the quiet was lovely.

I woke up with Illumi in my arms, my cheek on his sternum. The first thing I became aware of was that he was clothed and I was bare. He must've re-dressed before coming back to bed. I fell asleep pretty fast last night, which wasn't out of the ordinary. However, for the first time since we began dating, I was awake before Illumi.

He didn't look any different. His face was the picture of serenity, glowing white in the darkness of the room. Illumi was always so calm, so stoic, it made sense that it translated over into his sleep as well. He was unfairly beautiful, even asleep. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, his breathing soft. This last trip must've really worn him out.

I didn't dare touch him. Illumi was very perceptive, always on the look out for anything amiss. Given his line of work he was probably a light sleeper, too. I didn't want to risk waking him up. Illumi didn't sleep nearly as much as he should. So, I watched him. It was easy to do with my head against his chest. If I concentrated enough I could hear his heartbeat.

It didn't last long, though. Not a minute later, Illumi's eyes opened. He didn't wake with a start or anything like that; it was almost like he got tired of keeping his eyes shut. There were no traces of sleep in his eyes. He was wide awake, now.

"Hey."

I grin. "Hey."

His hand comes up to pet the back of my head. It was stiff and a little awkward, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I lean into his touch, like a pet. He wove his fingers through my hair, but was soon ensnared by some tangles so he went back to petting.

Our moment is broken by my growling stomach. Illumi’s hand hovers over me, thoughtfully, then he pushes himself upright.

“Where are you going?”

“You’re hungry,” he says simply.

Illumi extends his hand to me once he’s standing and I take it. I drag the bed sheet with me, clutching it to my chest to preserve some modesty.

At first, I think he’s going into the kitchen to make me something. But instead of leaving the room he goes for my closet and pulls out some clothes for me. They aren’t my usual lounge-wear, rather something I would wear if I was going out.

I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Get dressed.”

I debate on asking him why but decide to appease him. He’s only been back for maybe twelve hours and I don’t want to stir up anything. 

As I dress, Illumi makes his way to the living room and waits. He turns on the TV for a minute to something that sounded serious, probably the news, before changing the channel.

I fluff my hair in an attempt to hide my bed head then join him.

Illumi looks up, his dark eyes appraising me. I bit my lip. If he kept looking at me like that, I might jump his bones then and there.

“I like that on you.”

“You picked it out.”

“I know.” He turns off the TV and stands. “I have good taste. Come.”

Illumi takes me by the wrist, his hold firm but not harsh. I barely have time to grab my keys and purse before I’m dragged out the door. He make a point of locking up before going any further.

“Where are we going?” I look up at him, as if his ever stoic face will reveal something to me.

“I’m getting you some food.”

“We have food—”

He glances down. “What you have in your cabinets hardly constitutes as food. I won’t have my future wife malnourished.”

At this, I blush. _Future wife._ I run my thumb over the diamond ring situated on my left hand. It wouldn’t be long, now. To hear him say it, to have him call me that, brought forth a whole slew of gushy emotions. 

York New was still relatively quiet this early on a Sunday. There were fewer taxis on the street, fewer people. It made me bold enough to loop my pinkie with Illumi’s. He must’ve been comfortable, too, because he wasn’t letting go.

Illumi had explained before that one of the reasons he didn’t do PDA was because of the dangers it presented for me. I was his girl. His fiancée. If one of his enemies saw him being affectionate towards someone like me, with very little defensive training compared to someone like him, I could be abducted or worse.

Since I didn’t want to die yet, I accepted his reason.

We finally stopped in front of a high-end café. It wouldn’t be a place I’d go by myself, a performer’s wave barely covered the apartment. But, Illumi was accustomed to the ‘finer things in life’, despite slumming it eighty-percent of the time. When he’s come back from a job, he made a point to make some big, expensive gesture. I’m not sure if it was meant to spoil me or to treat himself. Either way, I’m not complaining.

Illumi lead us to the back of the café and took his seat against the wall. We ordered and waited on our food. I carefully sipped my water.

I’d pretty much lost it last night. Illumi did a great job of making me feel better, but the emotions and shame still lingered. Yeah, I was still a bit upset, but more guilty about breaking down on him.

“I’m sorry,” I say, breaking our silence. “About yesterday. You shouldn’t’ve had to see me like that.”

“Don’t apologize." Just like that, he waves it off. Like it was nothing. Like I hadn't been the whinyest person on the planet. "It’s my duty as you’re future husband to make you feel better.”

I shrug sheepishly. “I guess I just ... I feel bad. You just came home from your job and you probably wanted to relax. I didn’t make it easy on you.”

“Stop ‘feeling bad’.” His eyebrows pinch together. “Like I said, it’s my duty as your lover. I will do whatever it takes to ease your pain.”

I give him a tight smile. There’s no way I can make him understand. “Then, thank you. For doing your ‘duty’.”

Our food came and we ate in relative silence. I spoke a little about what I did while he was away (nothing very eventful or exciting) and Illumi listened. He’d add something occasionally, but spent most the time silently listening. I told him about practice, the good and the mundane things that happened, glossing over the whole cast-list thing. I told him about the new recipe I tried to make and the cat on the street who let me pet it.

It was, by all accounts, the perfect morning. We extended our stay a little longer than necessary, talking even when we both stopped eating. Finally, we decided it was time to head back before the rain started. Before we left, I excused myself to the bathroom.

When I came back, he was laying my phone down on the table. It didn’t bother me so much as it made me curious.

Before I can ask what he was doing, he replies. “It was a telemarketer.”

“Geez. I hate those. I hate it even more when they call my cell.” I pack my belonging back in my purse and grab my to-go bag. We walked out of the café and back out onto the street. “What do you want to do? It looks like it’s going to rain more today, wanna watch some movies?”

There were more people out and about at this hour. Illumi seemed more tense. We didn’t hold hands again.

“I was thinking more along the lines of sex,” he said.

I blanch, tripping over my feet. I bump into a nearby stranger and quickly apologize. “Illumi! You can’t just— _say stuff like that_!”

“Do you not want to?”

“I didn’t—“ I take a deep breath, a deep blush settling over my cheeks. “I didn’t say I didn't want to.”

He looks down at me with a curious expression. “So, sex?”

A few pedestrians give us a look as we pass. I run my hand over my face to hide my embarrassment. “Yes.”

ღ

I walked to the studio with a bit of pep in my step. Having Illumi back home always made things better. He saw me off this morning, giving me several thorough kisses as I was out the door. (I nearly didn’t leave at all. Partially because I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to practice after yet another let down, and partially because Illumi was making it _very_ difficult to leave.)

I could tell something was off almost instantly. The glass door had a white sheet of paper plastered against it. I was too far away to read it, but that wasn’t my issue. There were no dancers loitering outside. The place might as well have been completely abandoned.

I cautiously walked up the stairs and tried the door. Locked. I turned to the paper.

_Closed until further notice._

Quickly, I pulled out my phone. No new messages. Weird. I called Jo. She picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hey—do you know what’s going on with the studio? Was practice canceled last minute?”

No response.

“Jo?”

“ _... ... ... Did you - have you not seen the news?_ ” She sounds more tired than surprised.

“Um ... no? What’s happened?”

My mind raced through all the possibilities. There was a gas leak, or maybe we went bankrupt. No, that didn’t seem right.

“ _They called everyone yesterday. Didn’t they call you?_ ”

 _They_? I assume she meant the studio, but I hadn't heard anything. She sniffles and dread shoots down my spine. 

“What’s wrong?”

“ _It’s Yui,_ ” she says, her voice cracking. “She’s dead.”

At first, I don’t think I hear her right. The words don’t compute.

“What?”

“ _Yui, she’s dead_ ,” Jo repeats. “ _Couple of girls from the studio went to see her yesterday. They found her._.”

I clasp my hand over my mouth. The world seems to sway beneath me. I nearly drop the phone.

“Oh, my god.”

There’s nothing else I can think to say.

“Oh, my god.”

It doesn’t seem real. It can’t be real. Not Yui. I’d just seen her on Saturday. Her stuff was in the cubby next to mine. She congratulated me on the role I got. We talked about our plans for the day off.

I stagger to the side, bracing myself against the metal-pipe railing. I don’t cry, I’m too shocked, but the news is a punch to the gut. I wait for Jo to tell me it’s a prank, but she doesn’t. She’s crying quietly.

“How...” I can’t make myself finish the sentence.

“ _The police aren’t releasing a lot of info, but I messaged with the girls who found her. They said everything was locked up, the door, the windows. They said they didn’t realize she was dead at first. There wasn’t a lot of blood._ ”

My mind is reeling. “How is that even possible?”

“ _I don’t know. Police are investigating foul play. Someone murdered her_ —“ She hiccupped a sob. My mouth goes dry. Jo clears her throat and continues. “ _Practices are canceled for the week. They wanna give us time to ... grieve and shit._ ”

“Oh, my god.”

“ _Yeah._ ”

I clench the railing hard. “Thank you for letting me know.”

Jo said something unintelligible and hung up. I didn’t move from my spot for a long time.

After an unmeasurable amount of time, I pull out my phone. Jo said the administration had called everyone yesterday. I don't remember my phone ringing at all. Maybe I missed it?

I pull up the 'recents' tab under my phone app. None of them were marked 'missed', but there at the very top, time stamped 9:37 a.m. of yesterday, was the York New City Company phone number. It says I accepted it but I know for certain that I didn't.

ღ

I opened the door, my movements robotic. The whole walk home I had been operating on autopilot. Nothing felt real. I still couldn't wrap my head around it.

Illumi was on the couch. Some kind of fight was on TV, but he wasn’t paying attention to it. He was typing on his phone, but he quickly looked up when he was me enter.

“You’re back.”

I drop my bags at the door, staring blankly into the kitchen. “Practice was canceled.”

“Oh.”

The room falls silent again but I hardly notice. I should change, but I don’t want to. I know I should move. Standing in the doorway isn’t comfortable and yet my feet might as well be cemented to the floor.

Illumi tilts his head curiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Yui,” I murmur. “The girl I ... I told you about yesterday. I dance with her. She’s dead.”

“Oh.”

For some reason, his tone seems a little too light for the situation.

“They canceled practice for the week. Mourning and shit.” I find myself repeating Jo's words without thinking, but in the moment, it feels right.

Illumi doesn't chastise me for my language, which is odd in itself.

“Good.” But when I don’t move, he frowns. “You’re upset. Why?”

“She’s dead, Illumi.”

“Right. Why are you upset?”

His question baffles me. I stare at him, open mouthed, trying to find the right words and yet having none. Was his morality so off kilter that he truly didn’t understand?

“Didn’t you hate her?” he asks.

“No!” The word comes out harsher than I intend. “I don’t hate— _didn’t_ hate her. That’s—“

Illumi cuts me off. “But, she made you cry.”

Something flares within me. It's not quite anger, but it's not sadness. Its somewhere in between, some muddled emotion that makes my face hot and voice crack. How can he not understand?

“I was _frustrated_ Illumi! Yui might be better than me or snarky some times or a little too cocky, but I could never hate her! Never! Not really. We grew up together! I’ve known her since I started dance, which is practically all my life! Of course I’m upset that she’s dead!”

“I didn’t think you would be.”

I exhale deeply, nostrils flaring. “Illumi, I know you had a different childhood. I know that murder is your business, but can you—please—just _try_ to _understand_?!”

That unnamed emotion suddenly cracks and anguish rushes over me. Though my heart feels like it'll pound out of my chest. I crumple to the floor, suddenly too weak to hold myself up anymore. The tears that had been so elusive before flood my eyes, blurring my vision. It feels like a never ending stream, hot and heavy, as they pour over my cheeks. Illumi's blurry shape comes to my side. He quietly shuts the door before kneeling beside me. He strokes my head, but it feels detached and more like he's doing it out of obligation rather than sympathy.

It doesn't matter, though. I feel so alone, suddenly. So afraid. I curl up against him, seeking the warmth he provides.

Yui is dead.

_Dead._

That shouldn't be possible. I knew her. She was young and determined. She made it her goal to be the best, and she became that. But she didn't want to stop. Dance was her life. She talked about it constantly in the dressing rooms, how she wasn't going to quit dancing until she performed as the lead on the world's biggest stage. York New was just a stepping stone for her, while for the likes of me, it was probably as far as I'd ever get in life.

For some reason, this makes me cry harder.

“You should stop crying." Illumi shifts, removing his hand from my head to wrap his arms around me. “She isn’t worth your tears."

I shake my head, sobbing harder. Yui and I might not've been the best of friends, but we were still _friends_. Illumi, for whatever reason, couldn't understand that.

Illumi sighs. For some reason, he sounds annoyed. "Think of it like this: you have the part you wanted. She won't hold you back anymore."

His words hit me hard. I react before thinking, shoving him off of me. I flatten myself against the wall, putting as much distance between us as I could. I'm appalled, outraged.

"Why the fuck would you say that? God, Illumi-!"

"But it's true."

"How fucking insensitive can you be? Do you really think that I care about that stupid role right now?! A girl is dead!"

His nose wrinkles is distain. "If I had known killing her would make you act like such a brat..."

There's a beat of silence.

A hiccup shakes my otherwise still form. "Wh ... What did you just say?"

Illumi repeats, tone flat. "I said you're acting like a brat."

My tears feel like they freeze within the tear ducts. I feel like someone doused me in icy water. The shock of it obliterated my sadness, if only for a moment. A shiver runs down my spine. My blood is rushing through my ears so loud that Illumi's words seem distant, far off.

"You said ... You said if you'd known..." A lump formed in my throat. I swallowed painfully. For the first time in a long time, I'm afraid. "You _killed_ her?"

Illumi sits a little straighter, regarding me carefully. He sees the shift in me and what little affection he'd displayed moments ago is gone and replaced with a calculating stare. His silence is answer enough.

" _You killed her_?" It's more of a statement than an accusation.

I wish he'd say something. Deny it. Anything but this crippling silence.

As I look in his eyes, I don't feel warm in fuzzy. I feel like I'm going to vomit.

My voice is barely above a whisper when I speak. "How could you?"

All at once, the weight of his job suddenly crashed over me. I knew what he did for a living, I'd made peace with that a long time ago. Illumi's job was death; but, it was the kind of death that didn't seem real. It was all fictional, somehow, in my mind. If I didn't dwell on it then it wouldn't matter. Besides, it's not like he's ever had a target that personally affected me. But now ... now it seemed real.

My fiance is a contract killer.

A cold blooded killer.

My numbness is suddenly overridden by rage. I grab the thing nearest to me, my water bottle, and launch it at him with all my strength. "How could you?!"

Illumi catches the bottle effortlessly before it hits his face. He lays it on the floor, undisturbed.

"She made you cry."

My stomach plummets. This wasn't some job. This was _personal_. Personal because I had cried about it in front of him, because I complained. It was because of me and my stupid mouth that Illumi ... _Oh, my god_.

"You killed her because...?"

I can taste bile on my tongue. My head is spinning. No. No. No. Nonononono. This can't be.

"I won't allow someone to disrespect you like that." Illumi's eyes are unnervingly still, his tone light-hearted and unfazed. He reaches out to touch my cheek. "She was in the way."

" _No_." I shove him back by the shoulders. He scoots back maybe an inch. "No, you don't get to blame me-"

He narrows his eyes. "Do not push me."

"Oh, fuck you!" I shoved him again. Of course, it did hardly anything. Illumi snatches my wrists, holding me in a painfully tight grip. "Let me go, you monster!"

I'm shaking. I can see it, now, with my hands captured by him. They tremble pathetically. His touch, which used to inspire pleasant feelings, makes me afraid.

Illumi doesn't flinch, not when I shove him, and not from what I called him. "You are acting irrationally."

"You're a _monster_! A _murderer_!" I tear my hands away, only because he allowed me to, and smack him across the face. "I did not want her dead - I didn't ask for this!"

Illumi grabs ahold of my offending hand and _squeezes_. It's so tight that at any moment he might break my fucking bones. They groan in protest. My arm looks so fragile in his fist. I cry out, pulling against him, but his grip might as well be an iron band.

"If you hit me again I will be forced to punish you."

And I believe it. The air around me feels thick and oppressive. I recoil, pulling as far away as I can with my hand hostage.

"When you agreed to be my wife, you became mine. Wholly mine." Illumi frowns, disappointed. "Your frivolous dance career would have ended the moment we said our vows. Father thought I should've removed you from it the moment I proposed, but I am a generous husband. I know you like it. I planned to give you a while longer to leave it peacefully.

"You had ambitions of being the lead. I understand that. That has always been your end goal. And so, I helped you get the role if only to make your dream come true. Your last show would be your swan song. You could part from your career amicably and take up your duty of being my wife. I did this for yo-"

I form a glob of saliva in my mouth and spit at him. It lands just below his eye. The only reaction I get from this is a slow blink, his speech coming to an abrupt halt.

"Fuck. _You_."

The slap comes out of no where. I don't realize I've been hit until I feel the pain blossom on my cheek and deep in my bones. The force was hard enough to whip my head to the side. It seemed to knock loose a few more tears, which leave a salty trail down my cheek.

"I warned you." He pulls me close by my captured wrist. "You brought that on yourself."

My fear increases tenfold being so close to him. I can't even look at him because I know if I do, I'll scream. When he grabs my face to inspect it, I shut my eyes. This all has to be a dream. One, long, horrible dream. I'll wake up any moment now. Illumi will be beside me and he'll comfort me when I tell him about it. He'll assure me that he'd never do something as horrible as this. Never.

Illumi jerks my face up higher. "Look at me."

I don't.

I can't.

"I'm getting impatient." Illumi clicks his tongue. He tightens his grip on my wrist. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, I do so. I muster a deadly glare in hopes it hides how terrified I am. Illumi glances from my eyes to my lips. He leans down and kisses the corner of my mouth. It's brief, a peck, and my treacherous heart skips a beat.

When he pulls back, there isn't as much intensity behind is eyes. "Don't make me do that again."

My lips tremble. He releases my chin and my arm, but doesn't move back. I lower my eyes, focusing on the diamond ring I wear. It feels wrong. This is _wrong_. All of those loving moments, everything up until this point, feels stale. Shameful.

Nausea sits prominently in my stomach but it's the kind of nausea that comes around when you feel really guilty about something. I know it wasn't my fault. I know I didn't ask Illumi to kill her, _I know_. But, in a way, I am responsible for her death, all because I trusted the wrong person.

"I'm done," I whisper.

Illumi blinks. "What?"

"I'm done. We're through."

There is a pause. All I can hear is my heart beat.

"No," he says. I pull away, but he grabs my shoulder. "No. You aren't leaving me."

"Yes, I am."

"No. You're acting childish." Illumi pulls me to my feet and begins to drag me to the bedroom, but I resist. "You need to sleep this off. You're not thinking clearly. We aren't done."

I pull the ring off of my finger and toss it. It skitters to the ground, tumbling in front of him. He freezes. " _I_ am _done_ , Illumi. We're over. Let me go and get out of my house."

He whips around and the temperature drops several degrees. Something has come over him because no longer is there the calm, stoic face I've come to know. No, he looks unhinged. Deranged. There is an audible _crack_ and my arm, the one he's been intent on abusing, becomes alight with pain. I double over, screaming. I don't even have to look to know it's broken.

Illumi says my name in warning.

I act impulsively, pain clouding my judgement, and I kick him as hard as I can between the legs. Illumi doesn't release me, but his grip loosens enough that I can pull free. I race for the door, flinging it open. I don't even look to see if he's following me, I know he is, but I keep running. I run like my life depends on it because, at the moment, I'm sure it does.

He's shouting after me. I've never heard him raise his voice before. It makes my hair stand on end. Over and over, he shouts my name. I tune him out, but the sound strikes me to my very core.

I practically fly down the stairs, dodging and weaving through the throngs of people, and then I'm out of the building again. The dark, ominous clouds swirl overhead. I feel the first, fat raindrop fall on my head. It doesn't matter. I keep running.

The streets are overly crowded. Every time I bump into someone, my arm screams in protest. I cradle it to my chest lamely. I can feel the break beneath my skin. If I think about it too long, I'll throw up. So, I try to push the pain to the very back of my mind.

I don't know where I'm running. Anywhere but here. Briefly, I think about running to my parents' home, but I know rationally that I shouldn't. Illumi might kill them.

The further I run, the less people I bump into. The crowd is thinning out. I take random turns, ducking through alleys and cutting through traffic. I take a sharp left and wind up on a street I am unfamiliar with. It's dark and grimy. The rain is coming down harder, now. I duck behind a large trash bin and hold my breath. Illumi was a master assassin. Rationally, I knew I couldn't out run him forever, but there was a part of me that hoped I could.

The street is quiet. Still. In the distance, I can hear cars honking and people talking over one another but the rain drowns out all other noise. I try to take slow, measured breaths and squeeze my eyes shut. My whole body trembles with fear. What have I gotten myself into? It's not like I can go to the police - what could they do against the Zoldycks? They were as powerless as I was.

Vaguely, I'm aware of a dark figure standing several feet away. I don't turn. I don't move.

Neither does the figure.

We are locked in a stand-still, alone in the rain. I could almost convince myself that it's not him. Maybe it's a lamp post, or some junkie wondering what I'm doing. I could almost believe it.

Then, I hear him calling out my name. It's stern, like an owner trying to call his pet home. 

"Stand up," he commands.

I don't. I shut my eyes again.

"You've thrown your tantrum, now get over it." Lightning flashes. It's so bright that it shocks me, even with closed eyes. "It's time to come home."

The faint splashing of feet-on-wet-blacktop sends me on high alert. He's walking towards me.

My muscles all tense. Fight or flight kicks in and I leap to my feet. Illumi is fast, he's by the trash bin in no time, but I'm running again. I don't get very far before my legs suddenly stop working and I fall face-first onto the ground. The last thing I see is Illumi's bulbous needle sticking out of my arm before the world turns black.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING** read the tags. if anything mentioned above makes you uncomfortable then you probably shouldn't read this chapter.
> 
> Side note: I'd love to know what kind of songs you think fit this series. I work best when I listen to music, especially when I think it speaks to the piece.

I open my eyes. At least, I think I do. The world is pitch black. It makes no difference whether my eyes are open or closed—I can’t see anything.

The world is deafeningly silent.

For a moment, I wonder if I’m dead.

When my eyes finally adjust, I find that I'm in a small room. There are no windows and one thick, menacing door. I can’t tell if it’s meant to keep me in or someone else out.

I'm laying on top of a bed of straw. There are no blankets, no pillows, no distinguishing features of the room. It's just the walls, the straw, and myself.

The silence hurts my ears.

Everything hurts, but it's my arm that hurts the most. I risk a glace at it. It's bent oddly, and there are several dark patches on my skin that I can only assume are bruises. I'm still in my leotard and tights, which provide no warmth in the cold room. At least I still have my boots. My excitement dies when I realize the once thick and fluffy material is soaked through, freezing my toes. I'm missing my engagement ring.

I don't remember what happened right away, my mind is still foggy with sleep. What I do know, is that I shouldn't be here. A ball of panic sits heavy in my chest. What happened? Where is Illumi?

"Hello?!"

My voice sounds scratchy, my throat feels raw. I need water.

I force myself to think. What's the last thing I remember? I came home from practice early because ... because there was no practice. _Yui_. She's dead.

And Illumi killed her.

“He _llo_?!”

There's a loud _bang_ and suddenly a peep-hole in the door is flung open. It's rectangular in shape, wide enough I could stick my arm through it, but it would be a tight squeeze. A small square of light falls on the cement floor, but it's soon blotted out by a shadow. A person's head.

Two large, doll-like eyes peer down at my crippled form. _Speak of the devil_.

"You're awake." Illumi’s voice is light, almost conversational. It’s not at all fitting for the situation.

I struggle to sit up, cradling my injured arm to my chest. "Illumi ... What's going on?"

"I didn't want to have to do this," he says, "But you gave me very little choice. You need to learn not to act out like that."

Act out.

_Act out?!_

I’m so mad I could spit, but I bury the feeling. If he’s the one who put me in here, I need to be on his good side. "Where are we?"

“Home.”

I can only assume he means _his_ home. That damned mountain. I shiver, partially from the cold and partially because of nerves.

"Don't worry, I'll let you out as soon as I feel you've learned your lesson." He tilts his head. "It won't be too long."

"Illumi," I start, my voice low. “I’m hurt. Let me out. I need to see a doctor. Just let me out.”

"I can't. You need to learn that your actions have consequences."

"Illumi-!"

“I didn’t want to do this, but you gave me no choice. I’ve been generous to you and that’s been to my downfall.”

I grit my teeth, unable to keep calm any longer. How dare he pin this on me?

“ _Just let me out, you monster!_ ”

Illumi is quiet. His eyes narrow. He seems to be waiting for something—an apology? Fuck that. I level my own glare, not backing down.

Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move considering he was literally keeping my hostage, but I wasn’t about to be intimidated by him.

"I'll see you in a week, my love."

Illumi slams the peep-hole shut hard and I'm once again plunged into darkness.

ღ

If he thought I was _acting out_ before, I wonder what he thinks of me now?

I don’t stop screaming, shouting profanities at him, at this stupid room, at everything.

As soon as he slammed that peep-hole shut, I spring to my feet and begin pounding on the door. What gave him the right to do something like this? Nothing! It was total bullshit. If he thought that I’d forgive him after this—after everything he’s done up until this point, he’s sorely mistaken.

I hate Illumi Zoldyck.

ღ

I'm unaware of how long I was screaming. To me, it felt like hours, but it could’ve only been a few minutes. It’s hard to tell, being stuck in the darkness with no way to tell time.

I screamed as loud as I could, hoping maybe someone would hear me and take pity. At first, I was angry. I yelled threats at Illumi, I insulted him, I threw everything I could into trying to provoke him to come back. 

After a while, the threats melted into bargaining. I wanted out, I'd give him whatever he wanted. Illumi was not very materialistic, so I knew I couldn't really offer to buy him anything. (Besides, he's filthy rich.) I offered him my body, that I'd do anything he wanted. But bargaining shifted to pleading.

I screamed out, begging for him to let me go. I was sorry, and I honestly started to mean it. Thick tears flowed down my face as I begged. I apologized profusely. I told him I understood why he killed Yui. I was just shocked before. I told him I would've been fine with it if he'd only told me about it before hand.

Pretty soon, I just fell silent.

All that screaming made my throat raw and my head pound. I finally collapsed onto the straw pile, sobbing. I cried myself to sleep. I could've been out for hours or mere seconds. It didn't matter, when I woke up nothing had changed.

One thing I was painfully aware of, though, was that I had to pee. There was nothing in the room that I could go in. The thought of going in the corner made my tears start up again, so I held it.

ღ

“I think you’re really out there,” I say, near-shouting. “You just like hearing me suffer, you fucking sadist. _Let me out!_.”

Illumi, surprisingly, didn’t respond.

ღ

The second I woke up from my nap, I was reminded that this wasn’t a dream. Fresh anger washed over me and I began again.

I got up off my straw pile and pounded on the door with my good arm. It was starting to get sore from constantly hitting it, over and over again, but I didn’t stop.

I called Illumi a coward. A monster. A murderer. Any insult that came to mind. Nothing was off the table. (I even called him a momma’s boy, that was probably the least insulting name out of the bunch. It didn’t matter.) 

My voice felt raw and strained. My head was starting to hurt from the constant screaming. I didn’t stop. Not until I felt exhaustion creep up on me.

Even then, I didn’t stop.

I yelled about my injuries, telling him how badly they hurt and how I needed a hospital. My arm was broken, I needed to get it fixed.

Illumi never came.

I took another nap. It was fitful. I couldn’t get comfortable. The entirety of my broken arm felt like it was on fire so I couldn’t lay on that side. I didn’t dare lay on my back. It was too cold in the room and I needed to be scrunched together if I wanted to sleep. My other side was just was uncomfortable because I wasn’t used to laying like that.

When I finally gave up, I yelled at Illumi for not giving me a blanket—and then for sticking me in here in the first place.

Illumi’s never came.

I played with some pieces of straw. I tried to braid some pieces together, but my broken arm screamed in protest. Then, I tried to do it one handed. Unfortunately for me, Illumi broke my dominant hand, so the task was more difficult than it should’ve been. So, I gave up.

I made a point to shout some more, but my heart wasn’t in it. All it seemed to do was make my throat hurt worse. I gave up and fell asleep.

Illumi never came.

ღ

I’m not sure when I stopped screaming. I had made a point, after every nap, to go to the door and bang my fist, shout at the top of my lungs, on the off chance it actually got someone’s attention.

But then, after one nap, I was too tired. I remember just laying there and staring at the ceiling. I knew I should get up. I knew I should keep at it, but I didn’t. I was too tired. So, I laid there and allowed sleep to pull me under again.

ღ

Eventually, my discomfort became irrelevant and I slept easily. Well, as easily as I could in this situation.

I slept as much as I could. In my dreams, I could escape from this reality. I could pretend I was back home, sleeping on the couch or watching a movie.

But then I’d wake up and the horror started all over again.

I’d given up my shouting. It didn’t seem very effective. All it did was make my throat hurt. That didn’t mean I stopped talking to Illumi, though. Sometimes, I’d just sit at the door and talk. It was better than the mind numbing silence.

Illumi never answered

I began pacing, to talk up the time. Constant movement helped me forget about how cold I was.

I counted how many steps it took to walk around the room (about four hundred), to sprint around the room (about one hundred), and to skip around the room (about one hundred fifty).

I laid on the floor and tried to find distinguishing marks on the ceiling. There weren’t any.

I tried to count to one hundred, then one thousand, then I just kept counting to see how far I could get before falling asleep. I think I got to about three-thousand before passing out from sheer boredom.

Pretty soon, the urge to pee became painful and I had no choice but to choose a random corner and relieve myself. I felt so humiliated. I tried not to look in that corner very often.

ღ

“What do you want from me?” I was up against the door, baring my teeth to the barres peep-hole. It hadn’t opened since Illumi left. “Do you want me to say _sorry_? _I’m sorry_ that you’re such an ass!”

The offending door stayed quiet.

My lips tremble.

“Illumi—just, please open up. Okay? You win. Just, let me out. Please.”

ღ

My god, I was hungry.

Starving, maybe.

I’d experienced hunger pains before. A dancer’s salary isn’t a whole lot, and there were times I’d forgone groceries in favor of paying rent. Even then, I had my parents place a few blocks away, so I was never rally _going without_.

This was different, though. This hunger. It was primal. It made me ache down to the very core. A part of me heals out hope that Illumi was going to come in any moment with a tray of food, but he never did.

My stomach would cramp off and on. Some of them were so bad that I doubled over in pain. I cursed myself for not eating a heavier breakfast. I'd merely eaten a granola bar and packed a snack in my dance bag for later.

As if the hunger wasn’t bad enough, I was intensely thirsty. My throat was so dry it ached. My tongue felt like sand paper. I already had a split lip, probably an injury I earned from Illumi before he put me in here. I did my best to keep it from scabbing. The little amount of blood that came out was my only real source of liquid.

Now, I really wished I had a bucket to pee in. It was horrible to think about, but liquids were liquids.

ღ

Time was irrelevant. Nothing mattered.

I realized, after a long while, why there were no appliances or furniture in the room. It was so I couldn't hurt myself.

I still slept as much as I could (sleeping kept the hunger pains at bay) but when I was awake, I'd think about all the things I could do if I just had a blanket. They were dark and disturbing thoughts, ones I might be appalled with if I was in any other situation.

I thought about all the things I could do if there were just _one_ loose screw or piece of debris laying around. (There wasn’t, unfortunately. I’ve combed the area more than once.) I thought about all the uses of a blanket. (They weren’t just for keeping you warm, ya know.)

I thought about all the things I could do if I had a legitimate bed. It wouldn't matter if it was one of those hard, metal beds you see in prisons, or an actual mattress. Metal beds had sharp corners. If I tried hard enough, I bet I could cut myself on one. And mattresses had springs. I thought of lots of things I could do with those metal springs.

But all I had were the cement walls, the straw, and myself. My miserable self.

ღ

I leaned against the thick door, head lolling lazily from side to side. 

“Illumi?” I croak. “Baby? Please, let me out.”

Only silence.

“I don’t know if you’re even out there ... I don’t know if anyone’s out there ... but if you are, please. Please. Let me out. I’m sorry.”

Only silence.

ღ

Had Illumi forgotten about me?

That fear was starting to keep me from sleeping. He said one week. It felt like a week had already come and gone. I'd heard no noises from the outside. The door was thick and so were the walls. They drown out all exterior noises.

Illumi hadn't come back since that first day. Originally, I thought he might. I thought he would be bringing me food and water to keep me alive. At the time, I hated the thought of having to see him again, to rely on him; but, now ...

What if he left me down here to die?

I messed up bad, hadn't I?

I slapped him. I pushed him. I spit on him. I kicked him. I called him a monster. No wonder he was angry. I was so horrible.

I wanted to cry but I couldn't, I was so thirsty, so dehydrated. I didn't think I deserved a punishment like this, but maybe I did? After all, Illumi was just trying to do something nice for me. He didn't understand that I didn't want her dead. He was only trying to help. Yeah, it was wrong, but he didn't understand.

ღ

I miss him.

God, I miss him.

Really, I miss human touch. Human interaction. I miss not having one-sided conversations. I miss Illumi's scent. I miss his hair. I miss having him take me in his arms and holding me.

Being trapped in this miserable room gave me time to reflect. The people I danced with, I thought we were friends. We saw each other day in and day out. We all follow each other on social media, hype each other up, have group texts, but ... its all so artificial.

The moment one of us turned our backs, we'd pounce. We'd tease them, taunt them, gossip about them. I wasn't immune to this. It's just what we did. Performers are all so catty. We couldn't be happy for one another if someone achieved something on their own. No, we were envious. Vindictive. That's just the way things were. None of us really cared about each other.

But it wasn’t like that with Illumi.

No, Illumi was warm. Illumi was safe. Illumi was genuine. He loves me. Or ... he _loved_ me.

.

Illumi didn't know how to be fake. He wasn't brought up in toxic society. He only knew how to be himself, even if that self could be clunky and clueless. He only wanted what was best for me.

And I fucked it up.

Illumi was the one, nontoxic, genuine thing I had in my life, and I fucked it up.

No wonder he hates me.

ღ

I no longer walked the length of the room, or tried to count my heart beat. I no longer went to the door to ‘speak’ with Illumi. (Why would he want to listen to me? I'm a horrible person.)

I just laid on my straw pile. My time was broken up into two parts: sleeping and waking.

I would sleep for an unknown amount of time, and then I would wake. I'd stare up at the ceiling. Then, I'd fall back to sleep.

All my energy was spent. I stopped dreaming. I eventually stopped shivering, too. It was like my body decided to give up with me.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t feel the cold. It was bitter. My fingernails were discolored. I couldn’t tell in the darkness, but I assumed they were blue.

My broken arm had swollen up pretty bad. Every little shift sent a new wave of pain through me, but I learned to tune it out. Everything hurt. I was tired. I just wanted to sleep. My eyes were heavy. It didn't matter that I'd only just woke up, I needed to sleep.

I just wanted to sleep.

ღ

I was not awoken by the screaming hinges on the door, or the overwhelming amount of light flooding in my dark cell. I only woke up when I felt fingertips brush through my hair.

My eyes might as well have been superglued together. When I peeled them open, it hurt. Everything hurt.

Illumi stood above me like some kind of white knight. The flickering torchlight from the outside illuminated his whole body, giving him a kind of ethereal glow.

I wanted to smile. I wanted to hug him. My limbs felt like lead. Everything hurt.

Illumi touched my cheek and I closed my eyes. I missed these hands. His skin was so warm.

"You're freezing," he noted. Illumi wound his arms around my limp body and scooped me up. "I'll take care of you, don't worry."

I believe him. If I wasn’t so exhausted or dehydrated, I would’ve wept tears of joy.

I was free.

In the corners of my mind, I was afraid. I shouldn't enjoy his touch. I shouldn't be happy he released me. He should've done that a long time a go.

But, I was too tired to be afraid or angry.

I had no worries what so ever. Worrying took energy, something I didn't have at the moment. I trust Illumi. He'd make things better. He always did.

I tried to snuggle closer to his warmth but my body groaned in protest. Everything hurt.

I don't remember too much about how we left that horrid room. I was fading in and out of consciousness. The lights were too bright. They hurt my eyes. I let them flutter shut. If I was asleep, I wouldn't have to look at them. Besides, the darkness was much cozier now that Illumi was here.

When I was fully conscious, I was in a bath tub. The water was warm, I felt like I was melting from the inside out. I must've been in the bath for some time, because the water was discolored with dirt and blood.

Illumi's hands were in my hair, massaging my scalp with shampoo. I'm not sure if he noticed I was awake, yet. He didn't acknowledge me, only washed and rinsed my hair. He withdrew a washcloth and began wiping me down. I watched as dirt peeled away from my skin and melted in the bath water.

He stood and went to the sink. When he sat back down, there was a glass of water in his hands. He pressed it to my lips. "Drink." 

And I did. Never before had water tasted so amazing. I gulped it down ravenously. Some of it escaped my lips and trailed down my chin. I mentally mourned the loss. When the glass was completely drained, Illumi took it away. I frown. I was still thirsty.

Illumi seemed to notice the forlorn look on my face and stroked the side of my face with his knuckles. It was an unusually gentle gesture, one he'd never done before. All the same, I melted.

"How are you feeling, my love?"

Sore. Achy. Dead. I probably should’ve told him all of that, but I didn’t want to burden him with my pain. I let my eyes flutter shut, basking in the feeling of skin-on-skin contact.

"Better, because you're here," I croak. My voice was horse from screaming, some words coming out as a wheeze. "I missed you."

Illumi tilted his head. Though his face remained stoic, there was love in his eyes. He cupped my chin and came close, his lips brushing mine as he spoke.

"Being away from you was torture," he murmured. "Please, don't make me do that again. Promise me you will obey."

I nod, gaze flicking between his eyes and his mouth. "I promise, Illumi. I love you."

Illumi pulled away, leaving me unsatisfied. He gave my body another light rinse, making sure all the dirt and debris was gone, before lifting me out of the bath. He grabbed a thick, fluffy towel and began to dry me off, trailing kisses as he went. Guilt filled me. He shouldn't've worshiped me like this—I didn’t deserve it after what I've done.

Illumi when he was finished, he discarded the towel, leaving me bare and sat me on the sink. He reached out and grabbed ahold of my broken arm. I couldn't help but flinch. It was swollen and ugly, tender to touch, and marred with purple bruises. In the darkness of that _cage_ I hadn't been able to see how bad it was.

He poked and prodded at different areas on the arm. I tried my best not to cry out. I'm not sure why he was doing this. It hurt. God, it hurt.

Finally, Illumi stopped. He looked up at me, face serious. “This will hurt.”

My lower lip wobbled. “I trust you.”

Illumi pressed a kiss to my forehead. His hands tightened around my arm.There was a sickening _crack_ and I screamed. It hurt so bad my vision temporarily went white. I thought I was going to puke.

“It’s over now,” he assured me. “I only needed to set the bone. I’m going to wrap it now, and then you can rest.”

I nodded, pouting. My eyes stung, begging to cry, but I had no tears to shed. Illumi was surprisingly methodical about dressing my wound. He made a neat and tidy splint. It must not've been his first time doing this. That made me sad.

He checked me over for any other serious injuries but found none of note. Just a couple of scrapes and bruises. Then, he left.

I was alone in the bathroom. I didn't feel like getting up off the sink. That would take too much energy. Instead, I looked around for that water glass. I turned slightly and caught sight of myself in the mirror. What I saw made me flinch. Hollow, tired eyes and ashen skin. Over my shoulder, I noted several pinkish red dots surrounded by green bruises. That must've been where his needles pierced when he immobilized me.

I traced my fingers over them, cringing. It didn't hurt to touch them, but it hurt to look at myself.

Movement in the mirror caught my attention. It was Illumi. He stood by the door, a bundle of clothing in his arms. His dark eyes met mine in the mirror. I was the one to look away, hanging my head with shame.

Illumi cupped my chin and guided me to look at him. His lips descended onto mine, kissing me lightly.

"I have asked the staff to prepare you some broth. It will be in our room shortly." He released my chin and helped me off the sink. "Hold out your arms."

I comply. Illumi unfurled a white, silken robe that he'd been holding and helped me into it. Then, he laid down a pair of slippers for me to step into. Something cold wrapped around my neck. Fearful, I looked at Illumi through the mirror, only to find that he'd put a necklace around me. The chain was thin and dainty, and hanging between my breasts was the engagement ring I'd so carelessly thrown before.

Once it was fastened, Illumi bent down so his lips were level with my ear.

"Mine, forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I ever really clarified this, but _Me and My Husband_ is supposed to be a sort of anthology series. Up until now the story has been pretty linear, but I'm going to start making the story line more random. That's the main reason all the parts are broken up and not in one big book.
> 
> (And also cause there's not a whole lot under the Illumi/Reader tag so I wanted to make it bigger by posting a multi-chapter story separately. Sue me.)


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